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• So his life has flowed From its mysterious urn a sacred stream, In whose calm depth the beautiful and pure Alone are mirrored
  which, though shapes of ill May hover round its surface, glides in light, And takes no shadow from them....
• When I consider life, 't is all a cheat. Yet fool'd with hope, men favour the decei
  Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay. To-morrow 's falser than the former day...
• Joys too exquisite to last, And yet more exquisite when past.
  -- James Montgomery (1771-1854) -- The Little Cloud...
• A little more than kin, and less than kind. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Hamlet -- Act i, Sc.
  2...
• And give to dust that is a little gilt More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.
  -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Troilus and Cressida -- Act iii, Sc. 3...
• We are going to give a little something, a few little years more, to socialism, because socialism is defunct.
  It dies all by itself. The bad thing is that socialism, being a victim of its ....